


Each Other

by boleynhowards



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boleynhowards/pseuds/boleynhowards
Summary: There’s something wrong with Kat, and Anne is determined to get to the bottom of it.
Relationships: Anne Boleyn & Katherine Howard
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> tw for very minor discussions about katherine howard’s backstory

Anne was getting increasingly worried about her cousin. Over the past few days, she couldn’t help but notice how Kat was slowly reclusing herself. It had started with the sacrifice of her early mornings in favour of sleeping in late, which had been unusual but understandable enough. Then Anne began to notice her positivity - or lack of it. For someone who had gone through so much, Anne was always amazed by how bubbly Kat was. But now she was watching that optimism slowly seep away, in favour of keeping her head down and hiding behind a curtain of pink hair which was overdue for a dye job.

Eventually, Kat had stopped coming downstairs altogether. And that was what pushed Anne over the edge with worry. Apparently she wasn’t alone in her concern, because after gathering the other four queens to talk about it they were all already on the same page. Everyone had noticed there was something wrong with the fifth queen; nobody knew how to address it. That was the problem.

However, it didn’t take long to come up with a solution. There really was no other way about it, and so quickly the queens had all decided that one of them needed to go and speak to Kat, else let her drown in her sorrow. That prompted their next question; who? From the four matching stares she received, Anne instantly recognised she was being nominated for the job, though she didn’t mind. She would have volunteered anyway.

Thus, Anne stood tentatively outside her cousin’s bedroom door. She leant against the wall, going over everything the other queens had recommended in her head for the thousandth time before she knocked. Never had she ever been so anxious to talk to Kat, but now more than ever she knew that Kat was vulnerable. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt her even more - and Anne knew she had a bit of an overactive impulse and tendency to talk without thinking.

Then again, this was Kat. Without trying to boast, Anne was fairly confident in thinking that she was the best one for this job. Reading her cousin was as breezy as reading a book, so surely talking to her should come just as easily. Right?

Right. Really, there was nothing to worry about. Repeating those reassurances instead of the other queens’ advice, Anne finally worked up the courage to lift her fist and let it hover over the closed bedroom door. With a deep breath, she carefully knocked two times over.

A brisk silence followed, in which Anne internally debated whether or not she should knock again. Before she could come to a decision, however, a tiny voice came from behind the door.

“Who is it?”

She could barely make out what Kat was asking, her voice quiet. Anne furrowed her eyebrows.

“Can I come in?”

Another pause, though this time shorter.

“If you want.”

Grateful for getting this far, Anne gladly swung the door open. The scene she walked in on, though, immediately snuffed out that tiny flicker of triumph.

Kat was laying in her bed, wrapped up from head to toe in all three of her blankets and likely not even having got out of it from waking up the same morning. That was not concerning in itself; you could never have too many lazy days as far as Anne thought. Rather, she instantly zoned in on the blotchiness plastered over her cousin’s face, the red patchy rims around her eyes and the trails of tears that had been hurriedly wiped away very clearly.

“What’s wrong?” Anne asked abruptly, stepping further inside and hastily closing the door behind her.

“Nothing.” Kat mumbled in response, turning her head away as if not to be caught. Only she already had been.

“C’mon, Kit. I saw you’ve been crying.” Anne hated to call her out so directly, but what other choice did she have?

“It doesn’t matter.” Kat said.

“It does.” Anne insisted. She slowly began to tiptoe across the room, edging closer to the bed.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“It does.”

“Why does it?”

“Because I care about you.” Anne finally arrived and sat down on the edge of Kat’s bed, careful not to get too close for comfort but still wanting to prove that she was there for her cousin. “We all care about you.”

“I just don’t want to bother anyone.”

“You won’t though. Especially not me. I came up here to speak to you, didn’t I?”

“No.” Kat still didn’t turn around. “Especially you.”

“Oh,” Anne said simply, unsure what to say but feeling slightly hurt.

Did she do something wrong? Had she given off the impression to Kat that maybe she wasn’t there for her? That was the last thing she had intended to do, and by all means, she wanted to reverse it if she had.

“Not because of what you’re thinking.” Kat quickly said, and instantly half of Anne’s worries were put to rest. “Sorry, should’ve worded that better.”

“It’s fine,” Anne responded. “But…  _ why _ especially me?”

Kat was silent again. Anne continued to sit there, unmoving as she patiently waited for her reply. If she was even going to.

“Because,” Kat swallowed, and Anne could tell she was trying to stop her voice from breaking, “you’re the only one who would understand.”

“That’s even more reason to talk to me then.” Anne coolly replied. “I can help you.”

“But I don’t want to upset you.”

“It upsets me more to see you so beaten down by this and not wanting to talk to anyone.”

“I just… it just…” Kat struggled to explain, but Anne didn’t rush her. “It  _ hurts _ .”

Finally, Kat’s strong front crumbled away. Her voice, already shaky, broke out into a full out wince, followed straight after with a sharp inhale as if to hold in a sob. Despite not giving any more context, Anne instantly knew what Kat was talking about - and it hurt her heart to hear.

“Scar?” Anne needed to make sure.

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

In that moment, Anne felt completely and utterly useless. There were so many things she wanted to do. Get hot towels to press against the wound, maybe some medication to help get rid of the pain. Anything that could help, Anne wanted to do. And yet she didn’t rush to her feet to fetch these things because, deep down, she knew it was futile. There was one thing Kat was right about; she really was the only one to understand.

For better or for worse, Anne knew from her own personal experiences how horrible that pain was. It was a splitting pain, constricting itself tightly around the neck to the point that sometimes it felt difficult just to breathe. The whole muscle felt rigid and tense when she had it, but if Anne dared move her head by just an inch the motion would cause a searing to jolt across her skin as if she had just been pressed with a burning poker. Even when she just sat there, extremely still, a dull ache would stay like a snug necklace.

Possibly the worst thing about it, however, was the fact that  _ nothing  _ seemed to help. She had been through countless amounts of medications and homemade remedies to try and soothe the pain whenever it came, but it truly was just a waiting game. There was no explaining the anguish or the impatience it brought, and Anne counted her blessings every day she lived without the plain whilst cursing her existence each time she woke up with it. 

Kat hummed in acknowledgement but didn’t say much else. Neither of them needed to speak because they both understood the dilemma at hand. Even so, Anne wanted to try.

“I wish I could help.” She haplessly said, fiddling with a loose thread on the blanket she was sitting on.

“It’s fine. It’ll go away.” Kat reassured.

“Still.”

“It’s not even that bad. I’ve had worse.”

“Doesn’t make it any less bad though, does it?”

“I guess.” But Kat seemed determined to downplay it. “It’s not even the pain that’s bad. It’s… everything else.”

“Like what?” Anne asked.

Yet another silence followed, Anne sensing some hesitation but not giving up quite so soon.

“Times like these, I can’t help but think. Remember.” Kat finally explained in a slow, quiet voice, almost as if she was ashamed. “And the memories somehow hurt even more than the actual scar.”

It was hard to think of what to say other than that she got it, but Kat wasn’t even finished.

“But today I’m not even thinking of  _ him _ .”

The worst part was that Anne didn’t know if she was talking about Manox, Dereham, Culpeper or Tudor. Maybe even someone else. It made her sick just knowing that there was a list.

“Am I allowed to ask what are you thinking about?” Anne carefully questioned, not wanting to overstep boundaries.

“I don’t want to upset you.”

“We’ve been over this.”

Kat sighed, and Anne already guessed what was coming.

“Tower. Scaffold. Y’know.”

It didn’t take a genius to know what Kat was alluding to. As she listed the things off, Anne couldn’t help but chew on her bottom lip, digging her nails into the mattress beneath her with stress. Still, she had to stay strong. Whilst the words brought up just as many unpleasant memories for her as they did for Kat, her main goal right now was to be there for her cousin. Even if she struggled to keep her vision from being clouded by four cramped tower walls, unforgiving faces of a crowd and the back of a fabric blindfold before there was nothing left.

“I wish you didn’t have to go through that.” Anne finally replied.

Kat shrugged in a tiny gesture. “It’s my fault.”

“What? Don’t say that.”

“But it is.”

“No it isn’t.” Anne somehow managed to keep her voice gentle, despite her words being firm - she wasn’t going to take any other answer.

“I just feel like it is.”

“Why?” But Anne wasn’t allowing any more room for self blame. “Because you and I both know that you didn’t want anything that happened to you.”

“But I let it happen.”

“You had no choice.” Anne persisted. “Can I lay down?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

She was glad to get closer to Kat, quickly taking up the space on the bed beside her cousin before continuing.

“Anyway, as I was saying. You were a  _ kid _ . And you were pushed into ungodly expectations, and you were manipulated. None of that was your fault.”

“Maybe.” Kat admitted after a few moments of thought. “But I still wish it had never happened at all.”

Anne just sadly hummed in response, unsure of how else she could encourage Kat. Some more moments past in complete silence, but the younger cousin eventually spoke up again.

“Annie?”

“Hm?”

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“You always seem so…” Kat searched for the right words. “Sure.”

“I don’t get you.” Anne raised an eyebrow, glancing over with confusion but she was still met with the back of Kat’s head.

“Like… I know you have your days, but for the most part, you’re just… invincible.” She explained. “It’s like you don’t easily get bothered by it. And, I know I shouldn’t have, so please don’t get mad, but one night I couldn’t sleep so I was up late reading and I found an article about you. And you know what. And apparently you were so calm and collected and even back then you were joking. I don’t know if it’s true, I’m sorry, I just… I wish I was more like you.”

Anne inhaled deeply. She was not mad at Kat like the girl seemed to think though.

“Trust me, you don’t wanna be anything like me.”

“Why not?”

“It’s like you said. I have my days. Way more often than you would think, I’m just really good at pretending everything’s fine.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.”

“Don’t be. Kinda the whole point of me pretending, right?”

“I guess.”

“Still though. I’m trying to be better.” Anne explained. “Not at hiding things. Being honest with myself. Not beating myself up about it all. Shit like that.”

“How?” Kat sounded interested, as if she was going to take notes.

“For starters, learning that I’m not to blame.” Anne responded calmly. “And neither are you. We didn’t ask for what happened for us. We didn’t go looking for it. We were just unlucky.”

“Really unlucky.”

“Well, yeah.” Anne drly laughed. “But still the same.”

“Is that it? Just try not to blame myself?”

“Not quite. I think learning to accept it is even more important.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the past is just baggage neither of us can ever get rid of, isn’t it? I dunno if it’s true yet, but I feel like the quicker we understand not to bury ourselves back there, the quicker we can start moving forward. Properly.”

“That sounds easier said than done.”

“You’re right. It is easier said than done, and we’ll always have days like today where we can’t stop asking ourselves where we went wrong and what we could have done to change things. But we shouldn’t let those days blind us to what we have right now.”

“A family.” Kat concluded, earning a hum of approval from Anne.

“Yep. We have this family.” She confirmed. “We also have this house, and a stage to tell our stories with. People who want to listen to us and voices we can finally use unrestrained. But, more than that, me and you? We have each other.”

As if inspired by her cousin, Kat slowly turned around, weighing her hands against her mattress to support herself as she faced Anne. Her face looked a little less patchy than before, though her eyes were still glassed over. Even so, there was a fragment of an improvement, and that was all Anne needed.

“And we understand each other.” Kat said, voice small but resolute.

“Exactly.” Anne agreed. “So we shouldn’t push each other away, especially not when we really need each other.”

Looking across at each other, nervous brown eyes met serious green ones. With a deep breath, Kat finally mustered a tiny nod.

“You’re right.” She admitted. “I’m sorry for not coming to you first.”

“Hey, you don’t need to apologise.” Anne swiftly reassured her. “I’m just glad I could make you feel better now.”

“You did.” Kat said. “And I promise I’ll try to be better.”

“We’ll both try to be better.” Anne corrected.

“For each other?”

“For each other.”

For the first time in days, a small smile finally tugged itself onto Kat’s lips. Slowly, she moved closer to Anne, who in turn grabbed a fistful of blanket and draped it over herself. Change of plan from going back downstairs when she was done; spending the next few hours laying half asleep with her cousin felt like a much better alternative.

After all, life just happened to beat people down sometimes. As long as they had each other to pick themselves up, the cousins were sure they would always turn out fine.


End file.
